


All That Glitters Is Gold

by teenwolf-lit (fizzingweaselbee)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:56:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzingweaselbee/pseuds/teenwolf-lit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Popular Kate Argent wants Derek, but he likes Stiles</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That Glitters Is Gold

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: "i saw sometine like this from an actual fanfic and was wondering if you could do something... sterek highschool au - Kate is the same age as all of them - kate, the popular girl of the school wants derek, but derek wants stiles and stiles and kate are both to blind to notice"

"Hey there, Der, these seats taken?" Derek looked up to see Kate Argent looking down at him, a predatory smile dancing on her lips. He shrugged, and she took it as an invitation to sit down opposite him, heeled feet brushing against his calves as she did. Her friends filled in around them, and Derek's hand tightened on his water as he drank it, but otherwise gave no outward sign of discomfort. "So, Der, you just made basketball captain right?" Kate asked, smile still fixed on her lips.

Derek nodded. "Uh, yeah," he added when he realised she expected a verbal response, and the words made her smile widen, baring perfectly even, white teeth. 

"Have you been playing since you started? You are a senior, right, I see you in my classes." She pulled her hair over one shoulder, waves golden, and Derek remembered that she had a sister in the year below, exactly alike in looks except for the hair.

Derek cleared his throat. "Since sophomore year, it was lacrosse before. And yeah, I'm a senior."

"I'll have to come over next time we have class together," Kate replied, and Derek was saved from responding by the bell. He smiled quickly at Kate before getting up, swinging his backpack over his shoulder as he walked away, glad that, at least, Kate wasn't in AP History.

**

Stiles, however, was in AP History, sitting in the chair behind Derek's and tapping his pen against the back of Derek's chair, something he'd done mindlessly, initially, but which he did now specifically because he knew it got on Derek's nerves.

They'd played lacrosse together for a year; had bonded over their mutual appreciation for Coach's humour and a craving for junk food after losing a match. They’d never been friends exactly, but they nodded at each other in the hallway and exchanged exasperated looks during the two classes they shared.

“Hey Sourface, how was your summer?” Stiles asked, cheerfully ignoring the glare Mr Westover sent his way. “C’mon, Derek, it’s the first lesson back, he doesn’t care.”

Derek turned to frown at him. “Shut up,” he whispered before turning back around, and there was a respite of five minutes before a piece of paper bounced off of the top of his head and onto his desk.

_I’m pretty sure you could bench press him, plus you’re getting like a 6.0 GPA in this class. Tell me; did you commune with nature for two months?_

Derek looked over his shoulder, rolling his eyes when Stiles wiggled his eyebrows.

_**I don’t think a 6.0 GPA is possible, Stiles, but it’s nice to know you appreciate my historical genius. And I told you, it’s not communing with nature, it’s camping in my Uncle’s wolf reserve.** _

He dropped the note over his shoulder, and then ignored all of Stiles’ other bits of paper, focusing instead on Mr Westover and his lecture on the American Civil War.

**

“Did you know that your hair is covered in tiny bits of paper?” Isaac asked, clearly fighting a smirk, and Derek sighed, rubbing at the back of his head and growling when most of the paper fell down the back of his jacket.

Erica joined them on the bleachers, Boyd dropping to sit next to her – they’d started watching Isaac play after he’d moved in with Derek, and now it was habit that whenever Derek didn’t have basketball practice, they’d make their way down to sit and watch the team practise. “Stilinski been pulling your pigtails again?” she asked, pulling out another couple of pieces of paper.

“We were being taught ACW, I’m pretty sure he was just bored,” Derek replied drily, and Erica’s retort was interrupted by Coach yelling for Isaac to get his ass down the bleachers and onto the pitch.

Derek took his leather jacket off after fifteen minutes in the hot September sun, watching the players do suicide runs and defence exercises, wincing when Jackson slammed Stiles to the ground, but he stopped the play to haul Stiles to his feet, knocking him on the side of the head before they continued, and it was still odd to see them that amicable, especially after the animosity in freshman year.

**

“Nu-uh, Hale, you’re riding with me,” Stiles said, hand flat against Derek’s chest.

Derek arched an eyebrow, watching as Isaac and Scott piled into the Camaro, Boyd and Erica joining them. “It’s my car, Stiles.”

“And Scott is moping, again, so they’re going to the Mexican place which everyone knows you hate,” Stiles retorted, dropping his hand and jangling his keys as he walked backwards towards the Jeep.

Derek laughed when he tripped, but only because he landed flat against the bumper of Jackson’s Porsche, leaving a neat little scratch by the left headlight.There was a considerable pause in the conversation after Stiles started driving, and Derek watched him work over something. “So, I hear Kate Argent sat with you at lunch today," Stiles said, and Derek shrugged. “What, that’s it? The hottest girl in the entire school comes to sit with you, and that’s your reaction?”

“You think she’s hot?” Derek asked, regretting the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth.

Stiles looked at him out of the side of his eye, an odd expression twisting his lips. “You don’t?”

“She’s… attractive, I guess,” Derek conceded, eyes flicking from the road to the boy sitting next to him, eyes tracing the dark eyelashes and up-turned nose, lips full even in profile.

Stiles’ smile was tight around the edges, and Derek entertained the possibility that Stiles had shifted his focus from Lydia to Kate. “Yeah,” Stiles said with a sigh, and Derek switched on the radio to fill the rare silence.

**

By the time they pulled into the driveway of Derek’s house, Stiles was back to normal. “Emily was planning on making pizza dough this morning, if you want to come in for dinner?” Derek offered, not wanting Stiles to go home to an empty house, knowing the Sheriff was working the graveyard shift.

Stiles pursed his lips, evaluating, before nodding, and Derek dragged his gaze up from the pink pout, meeting Stiles’ eyes. Derek almost told Stiles then, but instead he led the way inside, like Stiles hadn’t been there a hundred times before.

“Boys, excellent, you can get started on your pizza bases.” Peter’s wife, Emily, smiled at them. “Talia decided to stay in Chicago another night, to fully tie up all the loose ends of the case, so I made too much. Your timing is perfect, Stiles.”

Stiles grinned. “Just my timing?” he asked, and Emily whipped him with the tea towel she had tucked into her apron. 

**

They had finished with the dough making – Derek had a handprint of flour on his ass, and Stiles was still picking dough out of his hair – and had started on the toppings when Derek’s cell phone rang. Hands deep in tomato puree, the panicked expression on his face made Stiles laugh, and he reached into Derek’s pocket, looking down at the display and missing the way Derek’s cheeks heated up.

His smile dropped when he saw who was calling. “Kate Argent,” he said, holding the phone out to Derek, who took it, dropping the towel stained with tomato sauce onto the counter. He looked between the phone and Stiles before moving to the other side of the room.

“Hey there, Der, how are you?” Kate’s voice was tinny, and he could hear the sound of laughter in the background, as well as the thump of music

“How did you get my number?” Derek asked instead of answering her question, watching Stiles grate the cheese with more force than was necessary.

Kate laughed, throaty and fake. “Honey, I can get anything I want, it’s one of the perks,” she replied, like she was giving away a big secret. “Anyway, there’s a party on the lacrosse pitch. I want you to come, Der.”

“It’s Derek,” he gritted out. “And I can’t, Kate, but thanks for the offer.” Politeness had been drilled into him, but he said it grudgingly.

Kate sighed. “Your loss, handsome. Maybe next time.” She hung up, and Derek listened to the static before checking the screen, scrawling down the digits.

He walked back into the main kitchen, pushing the piece of paper in front of where Stiles was chopping. “Here,” he said. “That’s her number, you can call her.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Stiles asked, and Derek noticed that he had, unasked, added pineapple to Derek’s without thought.

Derek shrugged. “I don’t like her, I’m not interested, but you obviously are, so.” He turned to face his almost completed pizza, reaching across Stiles for the peppers.

“Interested in – I’m not interested in Kate Argent; I think she’s a horrible person.” Stiles pushed the piece of paper back towards Derek, and Derek stared at it before looking up at him. “Why aren’t you?” Stiles asked, and Derek froze, jaw working as Stiles waited, for once not filling the silence when Derek most wanted him to.

“She’s not my type,” Derek settled on. Stiles seemed to accept that excuse, but Derek still felt tense, like he’d missed something.

That feeling continued as he watched Stiles sit in Laura’s vacated seat opposite Derek (Talia’s absence always warranted the switching of chairs, which Stiles had called the Hatter’s Tea Party). It culminated as an ache in his chest, and it flared up when Stiles smiled at him, a bit of tomato sauce at the corner of his lips, fingers tapping out the rhythm to All Star because Cora had been humming it; had told Stiles all about how they’d watched Shrek in school, and she was the only one who hadn’t seen it.

It was because Stiles fit, Derek realised, reading through the texts he and Stiles had exchanged instead of replying to the two Kate had sent him. Stiles fit, and Derek could never tell him.


End file.
